


Reason #435 Why Offworld Sex Is Not a Good Idea

by thegrrrl2002



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: M/M, Off-World
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-27
Updated: 2010-04-27
Packaged: 2017-10-09 04:49:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/83217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegrrrl2002/pseuds/thegrrrl2002
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It seemed like a good idea at the time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Reason #435 Why Offworld Sex Is Not a Good Idea

**Author's Note:**

> Kylie Lee beta'd this!

Jack leans over the balcony, eyeing the dark valley below. There's no movement of any kind, not that he expected any. Good. The planet is uninhabited, and since the address came from the Ancients' knowledge downloaded into his head years ago, he doesn't expect any trouble—aside from the fact that he always expects trouble.

The sky is gray with predawn light. He watches the stars near the horizon fade, enjoying the quiet, broken only by the occasional twittering bird. He decides to complete his watch with another round through the long corridors of the temple. After that he will wake Daniel, if Daniel isn't already awake and salivating over the ancient chicken-scratches awaiting him. Jack likes to wake Daniel up. He's amused by it, by the way Daniel mutters and grunts at him. He likes even better when those grunts turn into moans, with a little "oh, god, oh Jack," on the side.

But not here, of course, because they're offworld, and Daniel is sleeping in the same large chamber with Teal'c and Sam. Jack thinks about it though, as he walks along the glassy, reflective walls. Daniel, with his eyes closed, his mouth open, letting out sounds of pure pleasure. Jack's cock thickens at the thought of a slow, sleepy fuck, the kind of lovemaking that feels as though it should go on for hours.

"Right," he says quietly. They still have a week's worth of work to do here. There's no sense getting all worked up. He slings the P-90 over his shoulder and enters one of the connecting corridors, peering into empty rooms. At least he's no longer startled when he catches his reflection in the semidarkness. The temple is full of mirrored surfaces, which fascinates Daniel but makes Jack uneasy.

He hears something. It's very faint, a mere scuffle—could be feet on the tile floor. He freezes, head cocked, listening. Definitely footsteps. He swings the P-90 into position, but he already recognizes the cadence of the steps.

"Jack?" A soft voice comes out of the darkness.

"Hello, Daniel," Jack responds, lowering his gun. A familiar figure approaches him, a silhouette with broad shoulders, slim hips, ruffled hair. Daniel has decided to be an early bird, after all.

"Jack, I—" is all Daniel can get out before Jack gives into temptation and flattens him against the wall with a kiss. Daniel gives a surprising little squeal of protest, but Jack doesn't care. It's the first moment alone they've had in days and hell, it's just one little kiss. Daniel tries to turn his head away, but Jack grabs it in both hands and holds him still. Even so, Daniel still tries to talk to him, and Jack has to slide his tongue into Daniel's mouth to keep him quiet, because he's had enough of talking. They've been talking all week. He wants to do something else with his mouth now.

Apparently, Daniel gets it. He relaxes, lets out a soft little chuckle and wraps his arms around Jack. His mouth is rough and demanding, just the way Jack likes it. Daniel's body feels so good that Jack has to reach under Daniel's shirt to get his hands on that skin, has to rub the flat stomach and hard muscle. Daniel's hands go to his ass, squeezing, pulling him closer. Jack wonders vaguely if this wasn't such a good idea, because he can already feel Daniel's cock pressing happily against his thigh, and his own cock is poking into Daniel's hip. One little kiss could never be enough. It's only a taste of what he could have, and instead of releasing tension, it only ratchets it up further.

Once the rubbing starts he knows he's done for. It's a slippery slope—there's no halfway when it comes to Daniel. A kiss, just one little kiss, and it was his own command decision, but he never specified where that kiss would be, right? He fumbles with Daniel's belt, his fingers suddenly clumsy. Daniel is encouraging him, sliding right down that slope with him as he unbuttons his pants for Jack, a tight little moan of pleasure escaping from his mouth.

It has to be quick. Jack sinks down onto his knees, his mouth finding Daniel's cock. Daniel's hips jerk and his whimper has a frantic note to it. Daniel's cock tastes salty, and it grows even harder as Jack sucks, sliding his lips down the length of it, cramming as much of it into his mouth as he can. Daniel's pubic hair tickles his nose, and Jack loves the way he smells, loves the sweat and the dirt. He wants to bury his nose behind Daniel's balls, he wants to taste the crack of his ass, he wants to be mindlessly naked with Daniel. But he's not naked, he's all geared up in his vest, with his P-90 on his shoulder, because he's still on duty, even though he's down on his knees sucking Daniel's cock. And it's wrong, so very wrong, that he has to reach a hand into his own unfastened pants and squeeze, thinking that this might be the best idea he's ever had.

It doesn't take long for Daniel's body to start trembling, his fingers skittering through Jack's hair as he gasps for air. Jack sucks hard, once, twice, and then Daniel thrusts into his mouth and comes and comes and comes, silently. Jack moans and keeps sucking until Daniel pulls away, all the while jerking himself off with quick, short strokes, his own need spiraling skyward. It's just light enough out now for Jack to admire his handiwork—Daniel's cock resting against a pale thigh, the bead of come glistening on the tip, dripping down onto the edge of Daniel's pants, his brown pants—

Brown? That's not right, they don't have brown BDUs, and those buttons—that's not—not—

Fuck. It's all wrong, but it's too late. Jack can't stop himself. He comes, sharp, jagged pleasure mixed with panic, as he hears Daniel's voice from a distance, calling his name.

When his vision clears, when his body stops shaking, his Daniel has arrived. His Daniel with the correctly green BDUs, his Daniel with the arms folded against his chest and an indecipherable expression on his face.

Brown BDU Daniel is grinning as he buttons his pants.

Fuck.

Jack doesn't even want to look at the man he hears approaching, but he does. Of course it's a tall gray-haired man, wearing the same wrong-color-brown BDUs, and of course the man has an all-too-familiar face, not to mention an all-too-familiar "what the fuck?" scowl. Damn fucking mirrors. Jack squeezes his eyes shut, hand still clutching his dripping cock. But the ground refuses to do the decent thing and swallow him up. Resigned, he opens his eyes again, wipes his mouth, and pastes on a smile.

"Next?" he asks, brightly.


	2. Reason #436

When they're both naked, Jack can't tell which one is his Daniel. He feels guilty about that, but not too much, because identical hungry mouths are sucking, licking and kissing, one at his stomach, the other behind him, spreading him open, exposing him, a wet tongue sliding between his cheeks. Jack moans and his fingers claw at the spread out sleeping bag, bunching it up under his head.

It's hot in the temple, the air heavy with unshed rain. There are arms and legs everywhere, twining and tangling. There's skin, bare, naked skin rubbing and shining with sweat. Jack is exhausted, his body is heavy and lazy but neither Daniel seems to mind. So he lets them have their way, allows Daniel to lift his leg and nuzzle his balls while another arm hooks over his hip, and oh god his tongue is right there.

Jack knows that what they are doing is beyond insane. Still, his life has been just plain whacked out for years now, and at least this is fun and insane. Two mouths on him, it's overwhelming—two mouths eating him alive, Daniel's tongue pushing inside of him, Daniel's mouth is on his cock and Jack is getting hard again and ain't that something.

"Oh yeah," Jack says; only he's not the one who said it.

The other bastard is stealing his lines. Jack glares at the man sucking Daniel's cock and wonders if he should be jealous. Daniel is clearly enjoying it and that's sweet to see, especially when he gasps and moans around Jack's cock instead of sucking. But then he rolls onto his back, leaving Jack's cock behind and spreading his legs wide.

"Hey," Jack complains at the loss. "No fair." It bugs him that the other Jack ignores him, even though he's obviously very busy. It's more than a little odd for Jack to watch that gray head bob up and down, to see Daniel's thick cock sliding between his lips and disappearing into his mouth. The movement is slow and deliberate, and just as slowly Daniel's back arches, a desperate sound of pleasure escaping his throat. Daniel's hand finds Jack's cock and squeezes, and that suits Jack just fine because the other Daniel is still busy behind him, doing all kinds of wonderful and nasty things with his mouth.

Daniel squeezes again. Jack's cock is rock-hard now and ready for more action. Not bad for an old guy. He wants to point this out to the other Jack, point out that he's fully recovered, because he's better than him, but oh god—fingers, slick with who-knows-what ease inside of him, and he can only make vague, unintelligible sounds. Daniel chuckles and bites his ass, sharp teeth sinking into skin. Jack yelps at the welcome pain and thinks that maybe this one is his, after all.

The wind gusts through the window, cooler this time. Daniel kisses Jack's ass and then sits up, sniffing the air. "Rain?"

"Huh?" Jack asks. He welcomes the coolness, but he can't think right now, never mind comment on the weather, not with those fingers twisting inside of him.

The rain finally begins, a summer downpour. The other Jack doesn't seem to notice, but the other Daniel gasps as the drops spatter him. Another gust brings it into further into the room with them, cold heavy drops hitting Jack's overheated skin. The sleeping bags are going to get wet, but he doesn't care because now Daniel bent over Daniel's body, licking drops of water from Daniel's chest. Jack can't take his eyes off of them, it's such a pretty picture, one Daniel sprawled flat on his back, arms outstretched, eyes closed, the other leaning over him, pink tongue gliding along the wet skin. His are fingers still inside of Jack, and Jack likes the connection, likes the pleasure the movement brings. He reaches for Daniel, cupping his head, running his fingers through the short, damp hair while the other Daniel still licks and nuzzles. Daniel is getting noisier; his face screwed up into the expression of pure, mindless pleasure that Jack loves so much.

He loves Daniel.

Both Daniels.

He loves all the Daniels that ever were.

Daniel's cries grow higher in pitch. His hand clenches and unclenches around Jack's cock. He comes, mouth open, silent at first, then moaning in a way that is so familiar to Jack that he's suddenly convinced that this one is his.

He's still pondering this as the other Daniel rolls him over onto his stomach. Instinctively he rises up on his knees, his cock heavy and solid between his legs, his ears still full of the sound of Daniel coming, the sound that wraps itself around his heart and settles near the base of his spine. The rain gusts in again and he's hot and cold all at once and he wants, he needs a Daniel pushing inside of him right now.

But the arm that slides around his belly isn't Daniel's.

"Aw, fuck," Jack says.

"Oh, absolutely," Jack replies.

"You've got to be kidding."

"I kid you not," Jack tells him, steadying him with one rough hand on his hip.

This isn't what Jack wants, but something thick and hard bumps up against his ass and that is what he wants. "Fuck," he says again.

The other Jack does just that, pushing his cock into Jack's ass. "You mean like this?"

It's worse than talking to himself. Usually, he doesn't answer himself back. "You're a sick, sick man," Jack tells him as he bites back a moan. He is being penetrated, stretched wide open—pressure, a little pain, a lot of pleasure, all of it mixing together. "Pervert," he spits out.

"You would know." Jack strokes his hip and keeps on pushing, until his dick all the way inside, until his thighs are snug up against the back of Jack's thighs. He sighs, and tightens his grip around Jack's waist.

"You got two really nice asses to chose from," Jack says, waving a hand at the two naked men lounging just out of reach. "So why the hell—"

"Because I could, that's why." Jack's voice sounds a little strained, but still flippant as ever.

"Huh. Gives a whole new meaning to the term 'go fuck yourself', doesn't it?" Daniel asks. He's resting his head on Daniel's chest, eyes half-open as he yawns. The other Daniel's arm drapes across his stomach as if it's his own. They are watching with such rapt expressions that Jack is tempted to ask if they want popcorn. But then Jack thrusts into him with a little twist of the hips and he slumps forward on his forearms, swallowing another moan. He can't even talk; it feels good, annoyingly good, good in a way that really pisses him off. He tightens his muscles and squeezes.

"Because I thought of it first," Jack was saying, "and thinking is probably not—oh, oh fuckfuckfuck."

Jack clenches his muscles even tighter, and Jack shudders, groaning now, not talking anymore. Jack feels his cock pushing deep into his body, hitting that spot, right there. He grunts, and Jack gasps, hands clutching at his hips, his shoulders, his legs.

Both Daniel's eyes are open wide now. They lean forward in a this-is-getting-really-good-now kind of way, lips parted as they watch. Jack shakes his head—fucked up, whacked out, definitely one hundred percent insane. To be on his hands and knees, being fucked by himself, his own hard, hairy self and yet it feels pretty damn good.

It gets even more insane when Jack leans over and whispers, "Yeah, I know just what you like, you dog, you." His breath is hot in Jack's ear, and that might even have been a kiss on the side of his neck. Or a drop of rain.

"Don't be so sure," Jack growls.

But then he feels the sting of Jack's open hand hitting his ass.


End file.
